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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29865192">Savage Grace</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeaStorm/pseuds/MaeaStorm'>MaeaStorm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe: Immortals, At least he's not Drago, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Drinking, Drugs, Gore, Immortal!Krogan, Immortality, Krogan will occasionally get high lol, Krogan's an asshole, Krogan-centric, More characters to be added, Smoking, Some WWII Based Plot, Violence, with morals</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:14:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29865192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeaStorm/pseuds/MaeaStorm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Krogan find himself as an immortal? At first, being immortal is cool and fascinating for Krogan. The fact that he can survive through injuries that would kill most normal people if amusing, however, the idea of "Not Dying" becomes stale after a while. Especially with Krogan's newest babysitter, a college teacher named Viggo Maurice Grimborn II.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 710 AD; Age 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Krogan’s eyes narrowed into slits, as the man gave a soft whimper. The noise earned a loud snarl from one of the men dragging him along the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is your fault you bastard,” One snarled, and a painful slap rammed into the back of his head. “If you would’ve gotten that egg, then maybe you wouldn’t have been in this situation!” The motion stunned Krogan, making his head brim with fuzz and shadows that danced into his vision in the form of black spots closing in around him from the edges of his vision. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man’s eyes fluttered weakly, his head lolling to the side ever so slightly. A knife was placed to his throat, and the cold metal sent a shiver of awareness rocketing into his brain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan shot up in the two men’s grasp with a yelp, yanking his neck away from the blade, eyes wild and fearful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No- nono-” He started. “Please! You don’t have to listen to him! You don’t have to listen to him!” Krogan wailed, squirming in their grasp. One of them laughed, and he was slammed onto the ground harshly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan’s eyes widened slightly, his eyes shimmering brightly in the light of the clouds that covered up the sun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re going to beg like that, then why don’t we have a little bit of fun?” One of the men whispered into his ear. Krogan’s eyes widened slightly, tears beginning to make his eyes glitter brightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” He whined. “No, please, don- AHGHAAA-” Krogan’s words are cut off by a scream ripping from his vocal chords, as his right hand is dropped into what feels like a vat of boiling acid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan screams louder, trying to wrestle out of the grasp of the men, who are laughing hysterically at his screaming and squirming. Krogan’s cheeks heat up with a bright red flush of anguish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, the liquid around his fingers is suddenly gone, and Krogan’s left clutching his hand to his chest, not even seeing the knife coming for his chest- for his heart- as he’s too disoriented. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pain stabbing into his chest has his eyes blowing wide open. Blood splatters Krogan’s lips, crawling out of his throat in a spray of vibrant crimson. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lays there, his heart fluttering desperately in his chest, as the knife is yanked out of his body, and blood sprays out of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man tries to scream, but the noise is choked out by the blood crawling up his throat from his wound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fog began to cloud his mind, his head drooping to the side, before he went limp, darkness cradling his mind in gentle hands, easing him into the shadows. The gushing blood slows to a trickle, however.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two men lift Krogan’s limp body from the ground, and head inland, into the woods, where the animals would dispose of the corpse for them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan’s eyes slowly opened at the feeling of something poking at his chest. The coppery scent of blood hangs inside his nostrils. His pupils dilated to cope with the low light, and he found a large raven pecking at his chest, crowing softly to itself, and too focused on trying to peck into Krogan’s chest to realize that the “corpse” it’d been thrown was alive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan yelled, smacking the raven away from himself, as he bolted upright onto his arms, that were barely strong enough to hold himself upright without shivering like they were made out of thin wood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man blinked slowly, watching the bird flap away from him, cawing loudly in surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that he was out of danger of being pecked to death, Krogan looked down at himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood was splattered down his bare chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Where’s my shirt?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ Krogan asked himself, slightly confused. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>And- why am I covered in…</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ the memory of a knife burying itself in his chest slammed into his head, and his eyes widened in horror. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I should be dead! Why am I not dead! Why am I not dead why why why-</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ Krogan’s breath hitches, and he shoved down a scream, instead allowing it to curl out of his throat in a strangled, cracking moan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man slowly rubbed his hand along his lips, his vision darkening with the fact that he found them smeared with dry, crusted blood. He’d been laying here long enough that the blood had dried on his lips and chest. Everyone in Drago’s army thought he was dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I should be dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>,’ his mind was rushing at a thousand miles per hour, but, as Krogan sat up completely, bringing his hands to look at in the light, he found one of them covered in a rippled, bubbly mess of blisters. An acid burn- a very mild one, but an acid burn nonetheless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan looked up, looking around himself. The gloomy forest was silent as death itself, however, Krogan didn’t want to stay here. No, he needed to get out of here. Staying here was a death sentence, as even if everyone in Drago’s army thought he was dead, he’d still be in danger of rediscovery and he’d end up having more blood on his hands because he hadn’t died the first time, for some reason. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan stood up, and swallowed. His throat tasted like blood, and his chest throbbed angrily- a gnarly scab had formed where the gaping hole in his chest had been, but it still hurt like all hel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>First, I have to find a dock</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Krogan thought, as he began to dart off into the forest, pain thrumming through his veins. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hopefully there’s a boat docked there</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan ducked underneath a tree branch, before he paused, growling at himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>No, I have to go back for my shit.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ His eyes narrowed in anger at the thought of one of those nasty monsters putting their grubby little gremlin hands on any of his items. They’d already desecrated his other shirt, so some sick fuck had to have his halberd too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan ran towards a hollowed out tree, and then shifted his body, using the tree as leverage to flip around in the air, sending him back towards where he came from. Krogan landed, and then he was running again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now that Krogan was in front of the base, he stuck in the shadows, watching the men mill about with a scowl on his face. He needed to wait a bit longer. Twilight was falling, and usually that meant most of the guards milling about went to the barracks, leaving him with an opening to be able to slip into the base and steal his stuff back. M&lt;aybe with a bit more things, as he’d need supplies if he was going to be going off on his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, Krogan hunkered down to wait in the trees, his eyes narrowing slightly. He could wait. That’s what the good hunter did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once twilight was fully upon the base, Krogan slithered out from his hiding spot, keeping his head down as he approached the gate from the side, his boots barely making any noise against the grass, as he crept up behind the guard closest to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew that he could come directly from the side with the ones with the full-headed helmets, as they had their vision blocked by them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he crept closer, Krogan slid a glittering blade out of his boot, the long, curved blade shining dangerously in the darkness, before Krogan lunged, wrapping an arm around the man’s throat, and a hand around his mouth so he couldn’t scream. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, he was dragging the struggling man back into the darkness, and slitting his throat with his knife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d drawn the attention of the other man at the gate, who had his eyes narrowed at the shadows Krogan had hid himself in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan doesn’t move. He knew he had good camouflage in the darkness, but it was important that he didn’t move. Even the barest flicker of movement, and he would be shot by the guard’s Crossbow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s when an  idea blossomed in his head, as Krogan looked down at the dead guard’s crossbow, still loaded and ready to fire on the ground.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guard moved closer, and Krogan snatched the crossbow from the ground, grabbing the hilt of his knife with his teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He fingered the trigger on the crossbow, and then fired, sending the man dropping to the ground, a bolt embedded in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan looked at the crossbow, and then looked around slowly. He shrugged, and then sighed. Nope, he wasn’t going to keep bolts with him. He was better with his knife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Krogan bolted into the open gates, sticking to the shadows, as he made a beeline towards where the dead’s items were stored, so people could take them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan snuck into the building, and began to glance around idly. Weapons were lined up on one wall. Smiling, the man put his dagger away, and he sauntered up to the wall, grabbing his halberd in a pair of fond hands. He shifted it over his bare shoulder, as he glanced around, grabbing a hand axe, and a small, dragonbone shank, which he slid into his belt. Then, he looked down at his belt buckle with a scowl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could claw the emblem out later, sand maybe get a new belt buckle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan hummed to himself, turning around to try and find his clothes. His eyes honed in on his cloak, and a holster, made for his halberd. He snuck over, and snatched both items, as well as a silver brooch in the shape of a scarab off a table filled with jewelry, and then, he glanced around. His shirt wasn’t anywhere to find, so Krogan snatched a tunic- dark green with lighter green scales on it, and a bloody red muscle shirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, Krogan  started to get dressed, taking off his belt, and shrugging on the tunic, which went down to his knees; the perfect length, thankfully. Next was the belt, and then the shirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Krogan pulled on his cloak, and pinned it closed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan looked around, and then blinked slowly. His eyes fluttered, and he looked down at the harness. He strapped it on under his cloak, and then slid his halberd into the holster, pulling up his hood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of boots behind him made his eyes narrow slightly, and as he turned around, Krogan spotted that it was one of the guards who had tried to kill him. A shark-like grin began to pull at his lips despite his better judgement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, his halberd was out, and he was charging at the man. However, the man yelped, drawing a sword. While the sword managed to block the first strike Krogan made, the second went right through the iron of the blade, and into the man’s shoulder, severing an aorta located there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood splattered against the floor, and onto Krogan’s face, as he yanked his halberd out of the man, and let him thud to the ground. He then looked around, hoping he hadn’t been seen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Krogan darted out of the room, and into the silver light of the moon, never looking back at the place he had once considered a home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The forest hugged her leaves around Krogan’s shoulders, as he quickly moved through the forest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I have to move fast. As soon as they find those bodies this entire island's going to be being scouted for the killer</span>
  </em>
  <span>,’ He stepped over a vine, and then forced himself into a run, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to be long gone by then, too bad for them.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan’s ears perked at the sound of water crashing against the seashore. He pushed himself faster, panting, as he spotted the sight of a set of white sails over the horizon. There were signs of his freedom! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man reached a small cliff, and he leapt off of it, angling his legs so when he landed on the dock, it was in a gentle roll.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once there, he stood, and darted for a small ship he knew would have supplies on it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan flung himself onto the ship, slicing the ropes mooring it with a knife, and then immediately heading for the rudder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Krogan looked back at the cliff with a frown, before he shook his head, and began to steer the boat out of the harbor. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 735 AD; Age 54</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Krogan stalked through the bushes, his eyes narrowed with concentration. The man was oblivious. Completely oblivious to his presence in the darkness outside of the trail. It would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>so easy</span>
  </em>
  <span> to just strike and rob him of everything he had on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snow crunched underneath his feet, and the man blinked slowly, before he huffed, and darted back off into the leaves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not today,</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ Krogan huffed internally. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I do not need to live in squalor any longer.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He began to run through the woods now, dead leaves and snow snapping and crunching underneath his booted feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The forest hummed with life around him, despite the chill that clung to the air, and the snow that blanketed the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Birds chirped and whistled in the trees above him, already here from an early migration back north for the coming spring. Trees already had the buds of leaves on them, ready to blossom once the weather warms once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan glanced around himself idly, his eyes sucking in all the signs of new life. A small smile pulled at his lips at the flourishing of life in what used to look like a dead wasteland.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His life had changed so much since he’d escaped from Drago, and now that he’d found out he’d died going up against Hiccup and Berk-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>How long has it been?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He thought slowly, his eyes fluttering. Krogan paused, running his hand through his beard. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Has it been twenty years already?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He sighed deeply, knowing the answer was a certain ‘yes’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan’s brows cinched together slightly, and he began moving back towards his hut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t feel like it’s been twenty years.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ he mumbled internally. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>It can’t have been that long.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan stepped into the door of his house, pulling down the hood of his cloak, revealing his face was practically unchanged, minus the scar that crawled up his lip and ended at his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan glanced around, and his eyes found the mirror that hung next to his bed, his still particularly youthful features framed by his mess of dark curls, which have grown longer due to not having cut his hair in a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan cocked his head to the side. He was in his fifties now, and yet he did not at all look like he was that old. He had no grey muttered through his hair like he should have, no wrinkles besides the dark, tired bags under his eyes. No distinctive signs of having aged at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan walked towards the mirror, placing a hand to his chest with a frown, where he knew that the scar where that knife had embedded itself in his chest oh so long ago was. The wound that should have killed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it hadn’t.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why did I not die?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Krogan mused slowly. His stomach roiled and twisted itself into knots at the thought- he didn’t die, he wasn’t aging- ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>What is wrong with me?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan’s stomach gave a soft moan, and the man sighed heavily, pulling his hood back up. He walked back outside, and moved over to the small, wooden trapdoor located on the side of the house. He opened it, and then, slid down the ladder, glancing around the stone cellar with a scowl becoming more apparent on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unless he wanted old, mouldy cheese or some probably spoiled wine, he was out of luck for food. Of course. Krogan shoved his hands back down into his pockets, hoping to some mild degree that he could have some money on him, but all he managed to pull out was a few tiny copper coins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah that’s not going to do shit.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ Krogan hissed internally. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I should have robbed that sucker. At least I wouldn’t have to go hunting for something to eat.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan shook his head, climbing back up the ladder with a scowl on his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krogan strode calmly through the forest, a bow clutched in his hands, as he stalked after the blood trail of the buck he’d shot. It had been a wound to the leg, meaning the elk wasn’t moving very fast, but Krogan was more than cautious; he’d had his kills stolen before by anyone who thought they were intelligent to steal from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elk limped a little further ahead of him, while Krogan knocked another arrow into his bow, slowly pulling the bowstring back, his movements slow and careful, as he leveled the bow at the buck’s head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan took a deep breath, and fired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The arrow notched directly into the elk’s eye, and out the other side of the animal’s skull, embedding it’s barbed hooks into the creature’s flesh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elk gave a bellow of pain, writhing its head around wildly, focusing its attention on Krogan, who blinked at it from underneath his hood and mask. A puff of hot breath slithered out from the mask, as the elk dropped to the ground, spasming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan lowered his bow, and strung it over his back, grabbing his hunting knife from his belt with a frown on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan moved towards his kill, raising the knife over his head. Then, he sliced down into the creature’s heart. The animal goes limp with a wheeze, while the man lowered his mask from his mouth, letting the cold air sting his lungs, as he leaned down, slowly tracing his gloved hands along the creature’s fur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>May habitas in hortis et Valhalla in perpetuum, frater,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Krogan rumbled. He slowly pulled his knife from the creature’s flesh. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sit tibi in vestri semita in inferno protegas coniunx Frigga</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan huffed, lifting the dead animal over his shoulder with a grunt. Then, Krogan turned around, and began calmly striding back through the woods, his head held high and proud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>First good kill in a while,</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He mused. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I could probably sell the skin and some of the meat at the market.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Krogan stepped into the clearing that his hut was in, he dropped the elk on the ground, and then walked back inside, grabbing a different knife, a longer one with serrations on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hung his bow over the fire, and glanced around slowly, wincing at the feeling of his stomach giving a painful groan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down at it with a sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah I’m getting food, shut up.” He hissed, as he turned around, and walked back outside, where a lone raven was already pecking at his kill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan’s eyes narrowed, his grip on the knife in his hands becoming white-knuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knife was thrown, and it landed right in the raven’s wing, pinning it to the ground, while Krogan slowly approached, his gait holding a barely restrained fury. Once he reached the bird, he yanked it from the ground, and snapped its neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raven feathers were pretty, so Krogan supposed he could make himself something with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For right now though, the man dropped the bird back into the snow, and then pulled the knife from the ground, wiping it off on his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He first placed his hand onto the elk to steady his cut, and then, he slid the knife into the hole he’d already made in the elk, and began to slice the blade underneath the skin so he could remove it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wiggled the blade along slowly, moving towards the hand that steadied the knife, when his hand slipped on the handle of the knife due to his gloves, and the blade drove itself out of the elk’s flesh, and directly into the palm of his hand.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan reeled his hand back, screaming in pain- no one was here, and no one would hear him so why shouldn't he scream?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blood began to drip down the sleeve of his tunic, and Krogan looked down, his eyebrows raising up on his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh gods,</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He hissed. He had an actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>hole </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his hand. He could see right through it! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakily stood, leaving the elk for the time being, while he clutched his hand to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan pushed himself to run, and then, he burst into the house, his eyes frantically searching for bandages, or a needle and thread- something to stop the bleeding. That’s when his eyes landed on the poker in the fire, and he hissed in slight agitation, as his stomach cramped up angrily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stumbled over to the fireplace, and grabbed the poker with his free hand, steeling himself for what he’s about to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he’s pressing the poker onto the wound, squeezing his eyes shut, an agonized scream ripping from his vocal chords, as the scent of burning flesh lazily curled through the air.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 807 AD; Age 72</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The wind wheezed through the trees around Krogan, as he glanced around himself cautiously. His boots made barely a sound on the rough, leaf-strewn ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A rustle in the trees above sends budding leaves falling down to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan looked up, solemnly watching a squirrel scuttled away from him and his bow. Scowling, Krogan loosened the arrow from being ready to fire. Squirrels were not good for food. They had no fat on their bodies, and he would still be hungry even after he finished the entire animal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One couldn’t survive on squirrels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he turned towards the forest once more, eyes alert, ears pricked and alert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twigs snapped underneath feet, and Krogan perked up ever so slightly, a snarl pulling at his lips. Two legs. Human gait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whipped around, pointing the bow behind himself into the bushes, just starting to turn green with the onset of spring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A man comes lunging out of the bushes at him, yelling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan’s eyes went wide, and he yelled, rolling out of the way of the maniac. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled the arrow and the bowstring back, aiming for the man’s head. The man lunged again, knocking the bow out of Krogan’s hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked back at the bow. His eyes widened slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man had stumbled over him, and grasped onto the arrow he had almost fired at him. He was swiping down with the item, and Krogan was just barely able to dodge the arrow embedding into his skull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, it drives into his right arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan screams in pain, writhing underneath his attacker. With one arm out of commission, the man clambers on top of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan’s focus hones in on the man’s widely exposed crotch. It’s slotted perfectly for him to…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan slams his knee up into the man’s groin, flinging him off of him, and onto the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man stood, pulling his halberd out with his free hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan winced at the agony pulsing through his shoulder, as the other man stood back up. He took a look at the other, as he settled back into a familiar stance, ready to fight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man was small and scrawny, with long, tangled black hair, and a scruffy beard. Eyes the color of onyxes stare back at him with a hungry rage. The man also has a slight limp on his left leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something to take advantage of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan waits until the man’s coming closer,  and then, he strikes. He missed, purposefully, twisting around the man and his knife with a fluttering of his cloak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man snarled at him, dropping the arrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls out the knife again, and Krogan hisses. His heart was pounding heavily in his chest. The wound in his shoulder was throbbing and oozing blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stared at one another for a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, the man screamed, rushing at him, as he raised the knife above his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan moves to block the downward thrust, only for the man to abruptly shift at the last second, and then to slice the blade through Krogan’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The corner of his lip busted open, as a huge gash was dug deep into his flesh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snarling, Krogan shoved the man away with the handle of his halberd. His shoulders heaved with his breaths. He needed to get rid of this man. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Before he did more damage to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, you coward.” Krogan taunted, “Kill me.” he cocked his head to the side to spit blood from his mouth. It landed at the man’s feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down at the blood, lifting his upper lip, before he was lunging for Krogan’s face again with the knife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hit along his eye this time, scraping through the flesh next to his original scar. The man slices a second time before Krogan can react.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He screamed, stumbling backwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Krogan splattered blood across the ground. Eyes narrowed, the man screamed, and then lunged at his attacker, slicing the blades of his halberd into the other’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blades cut through flesh like butter, and it’s not long before a blood puddle began to soak into the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krogan bolted awake at the sound of banging on his door. The noise was loud and angry, and Krogan wasn’t properly dressed. The man groaned, rubbing at the bandages on his face with a scowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man shook his head, running his fingers along the wound in his shoulder from the arrow, a snarl on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun wasn’t even up yet! Who was knocking on his door so violently like that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One second!” He yelled,  scrambling out of bed. His feet hit the floor, and then he was grabbing the first items of clothing he had out of his dresser; a brilliant, ruby colored tunic, with a midnight blue vest, and a pair of black trousers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He struggled into the trousers, and then into the tunic and shirt, pulling on his belt and buckling it around his waist, as the knocking continued to bang into his ears like an annoyed Rumblehorn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking hel, could you be any more impatient?” Krogan grumbled under his breath, before he grabbed his sword, affixing the scabbard to his belt with a snarl. “I SAID I'M COMING! CAN YOU STOP THAT OBNOXIOUS RACKET?!” He yelled, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to pull it out if the need arose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The noise stopped, and Krogan gave a satisfied huff, as he walked over to the door, to find a man in strange armor placed there, a snarl on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” He snapped. “You wake me up at the ass crack of dawn for what?!” Krogan watched the man’s eyes widen slightly, as he looked up at him with slightly widened eyes. Fear glittered in their depths, and a Krogan had to force down the urge to smirk, instead having a scowl pull at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The right side of his face had bandages roughly smothered over it, and they were soaked with dried blood from the injuries he’d recently sustained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man in the armor swallowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well uhm-” He started, blinking. “The Queen’s guardsman are looking for a man going by the name of Harmon Banderwelt, and this is one of the few places we haven’t looked for hi-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha’s he look like?” Krogan snapped. “I had a guy attack me last night.” He flicked his fingers disinterestedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stupidest decision the fool ever made if you ask me.” Krogan watches the man swallow thickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Black hair, about 5’8” and black eyes.” The man pulled out a poster, and Krogan raised his eyebrows slightly in alarm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to tell you, guardsman, but he’s dead.” Krogan said dismissively, and the man blinked slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” He asked slowly. “Did you... “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I killed him. In self defense. He attacked me first.” Krogan interrupted. “I’m lucky I got away with a blinded eye like I did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man nodded slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want the body?” Krogan asked slowly, while the guardsman shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-No, that’s fine.” He stated, starting to turn away. “We were going to put him to trial, but he was going to get the death penalty anyways.” He looked at Krogan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, I guess. You made my job easier.” The man stated, as he started to walk away, mounting his Deadly Nadder, and shooting Krogan a nod, before he took off into the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan shook his head with a sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was up now, so he mind as well start working again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man turned around. He walked over to his desk, and sat down to continue sketching up plans for some modifications to his halberd, which was leaning up against the wall next to his desk, uncleaned from the excess blood and gore from the previous night’s attack.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan scratched at the paper with his stub of a pencil for a bit, before he sighed, leaning back in his chair a bit with a groan of pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes once again traced over to the mirror, and he found himself unable to avert his gaze. His eyes; one now fogged over and blinded, and the other a deep, chocolate brown, were still set normally in his face. He looked normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hair was still jet black. Not a spot of grey mingled in the soft fibers. The man blinked slowly at his reflection, cocking his head to the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t look any older, either. But, as he moved his shirt and vest down, it revealed that same, old scar, that had turned bone white with age. His eyes shimmered slightly, confusion bubbling in their depths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d gotten the scar over…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Has it really been forty years?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ he asked himself, his eyes narrowing. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why don’t I feel any older? What’s wrong with me?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan stood up, sighing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I know one thing. I should be dead. That wound in my chest should have killed me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He picked up his halberd, and sat down on his bed to begin to clean the item. It was probably time to see someone about his problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>But who would know anything about this? A witch? A healer? Or will I be hanged for witchcraft?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ Krogan scowled deeply, pulling out the brush for his halberd. He ran his hands through the delicate motions of scrubbing the blades clean with a deep growl rippling from his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Immortality is something that every man craves.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’  the back of his mind hissed. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why don’t you take your gift for granted?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan pulled out a bottle of oil. He dipped a second brush into the oil, and then grunted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not immortal.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ he hissed back at the creature, which coiled and cackled hysterically at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>But you are! Why else aren’t you dead? Why else are you not aging!</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ it pressed. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Just think! You won’t ever have to worry about death!</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great.” Krogan grumbled to himself, his eyes glazing slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>If I have gone on for this long, what exceptions can I make with other people?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh who gives a fuck?!” Krogan snorted ridiculously, rolling his eyes slightly. “No one seems to care about me, so why should I care about them?” He stood up, having finished cleaning his halberd. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 1105 AD; Age 370</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sound of Krogan’s boots crunching on the stone gravel was the only warning that the soldiers in their armor and with their bows got, before Krogan’s halberd was driving through one’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fires crackling around them made him blend in, his dark clothes making him melt from the darkness like a slick shadow made out of hatred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His teeth flashed from underneath the hood of his cloak, as he gave a feral screech, spinning his halberd eloquently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other soldiers yelled, one shakily aiming his sword at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’d you come from?!” He yelled, his compatriots staring back at the fool with a look of horror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t you recognise this guy?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” one of them hissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I told the Captain this was a bad idea!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan simply spun his halberd, waiting for them to get over their fear, and either run away, or to charge at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s TENEBRIS!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”another hissed. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Geralt, you fool do you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want </span>
  <em>
    <span>us to</span>
  </em>
  <span> die?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this, Krogan cocked his head, and a small smile pulled at his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you three will be more than dead when I’m done with you.” he rumbled. Krogan chuckled at their reactions. “In fact,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a step towards them, his cloak billowing out behind himself, revealing the glittering of knives on each of Krogan’s hips. More were clustered around his body under the cloak, hung in holsters and in sheaths on his chest and legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” He removed a hand from his weapon. “You know I don’t leave my victims alive.” He raised his head, his eyes flashing like a cat’s in the darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make it easy for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The soldiers lifted their swords at him, and Krogan gave a loud, approving laugh. His eyes narrowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hard way works too.” He grumbled, eyes narrowing slightly. He spread his legs out, planting them flat-footed on the ground, waiting for the others to strike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One ran. Krogan rolls his eyes. He’ll get him later. Now, time to focus on the other ones. One ran at him, and Krogan snorted. Foolish. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slammed the blunted end of his halberd into the soldier’s knees as he ran past. The man crumpled with a scream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan leapt, spinning around to slam the head of his halberd into the soldier’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his momentum, he continued to spin. He yanked his halberd from the back of the man, sending him slamming into one of his comrades, who dropped to the ground with a clatter of metal against metal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan aimed for the next one, getting a sword to the handle of his halberd, which he then used the other’s momentum to slam his own sword into his helmet. A leg snaked out from Krogan’s end, and yanked the soldier’s legs from underneath him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan jumped, using the man’s falling body as leverage to slam the head of his halberd into the last soldier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The helmet burst open with a splattering of blood and skull fragments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Krogan landed, his metal boots slammed into the soldier he’d used’s neck, snapping it with an audible crack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now for the last one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krogan took off in a run shouldering his halberd for a moment. He followed the prints the man left in the gravel, until he eventually spotted him heading into a campsite. Scowling, Krogan turned, and leapt into the trees. He had other ways of getting the job done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He vaulted across trees, until he was in a clearing with a huge cave that had been torn into the side of a cliff with what looked like the talons of a giant dragon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, he would wait. Hide until they went away and left him well enough alone. They usually did after a while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few hours passed, and eventually, Krogan crawled from his hiding spot with a scowl. He could go back to his home now, thankfully. He hoped no one would dare bother him. Not again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he reached his hut, Krogan opened the door, and slammed the door shut with a snarl. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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